


A moment of weakness

by statuscrows



Series: Noncontober [13]
Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/F, Necrophilia, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:47:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27138901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statuscrows/pseuds/statuscrows
Summary: "Me too," Homura says quietly, brushing her hand along Madoka's cheek. "I'm having a nightmare too."
Relationships: Akemi Homura/Kaname Madoka
Series: Noncontober [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945621
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	A moment of weakness

**Author's Note:**

> for noncontober day whatever: it's necrophilia time

They don't make it to Walpurgisnacht.

Sayaka loses herself in her rage and her despair, becoming a witch before Homura can force her to use a Grief Seed. Madoka, even though Homura warns her not to, Madoka, who cares too much about other people when she should be worrying about herself, Madoka, who isn't even a magical girl in the first place, tries to talk her down.

And she winds up dead for it.

Sayaka is no easy kill, and when Homura is done her Grief Seed rolls straight over to Homura as though the despair within it were attracted to her like a magnet. Without looking away from Madoka’s body she goes to her knees, paying no mind to the muddy water soaking into her tights. The Grief Seed is cold in her hand.

Madoka's eyes are shut, like some small mercy to Homura. Her expression isn't quite peaceful however. Her face is tight and terrified like she's twisted up in a bad dream that she can no longer escape from.

"Me too," Homura says quietly, brushing her hand along Madoka's cheek. "I'm having a nightmare too."

She uses the Grief Seed because she must. Because she can't afford to let her Soul Gem be corrupted when she hasn't saved Madoka yet. She watches the Seed drain corruption from her Soul Gem and wonders if maybe something is going wrong, because she doesn't feel the shadow over her soul leaving the way it's supposed to.

Maybe the corruption has gone too deep, she wonders, looking at the shining of her Soul Gem.

She tosses aside the Grief Seed. There's still a week until Walpurgisnacht but she's already failed in the only way that matters.

"I have to go," she says blankly. But Madoka remains as she is, caught up in the endless nightmare that Homura is willingly spinning for the both of them. "You'll be alright. I'm going to go back again and then you'll wake up."

She brushes wet hair off Madoka's forehead and notices that even though she herself is shivering, Madoka already feels much colder than her. It seems so fast for the heat to have left her. She finds herself thinking about entropy, the thing that spurned all of this on, and how the heat leaving Madoka's body wasn't equal to the warmth she'd consumed. Wasn't equal to everything that Homura's poured over and over again into her frail, breakable vessel.

A spinning wheel from Sayaka's labyrinth had struck her, snapping her neck before Homura even noticed. It'd been quick at least, Madoka's had much, much worse deaths. And she knew Madoka wouldn't regret having died to help a friend, just that she hadn't been able to save Sayaka in the end.

"I have to go," she says again, throat tight. Despite her words she can't make herself turn back time again. She shouldn't be able to feel exhausted, her Soul Gem takes care of her physical needs and technically she shouldn't be feeling more than three weeks of stress on her body.

Her vision is blurry as she leans forward to touch her lips to Madoka's.

A sob tears itself free from her throat. Madoka's lips are cold.

She pulls off Madoka's clothing like she's possessed, unzipping her skirt with trembling fingers and struggling to tug her uniform top over limp, unresponsive arms. Undressing Madoka like this, when she's cold and they're out in the open, feels like the prelude to an autopsy, an acknowledgement of Madoka's death that she will never allow herself. She only wants to feel Madoka but it's nothing like she's always imagined it. Madoka is still beautiful, still soft and familiar but the frigidity of her skin makes an answering coldness rise up within her.

"I'm sorry," she gasps between pressing kisses to Madoka's frozen lips, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just—I need this, please. Please, Madoka."

Madoka's bra is a soft yellow with daisies on it, a match to her panties. Homura tries to imagine this happening somewhere else, that the two of them are in bed together after all of this is over, Madoka thanking her for everything she's done and begging for Homura's touch. She'd hardly talked to Madoka at all this time and the girl was obviously frightened of her, but if they had time—if she was alive long enough to realize everything that Homura had done—maybe she would love Homura back.

Madoka's chest is cold, still and unmoving. Homura must've spent too long fighting Sayaka. Her fingers, when Homura laces them together, are cold. Her thighs are cold too, and Homura feels like she may vomit.

It isn't until she presses into the tightness of Madoka's cunt that she feels it. The faint tingle of warmth around the tips of her fingers.

Homura sucks in a breath and then sobs, burying her face in Madoka's chest. "Madoka," she wails, voice breaking.

She doesn't remember the last time she allowed herself to cry in front of Madoka. And she knows she can’t allow herself to do it again.


End file.
